


Most Peculiar Orders

by RachaelGold



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:49:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachaelGold/pseuds/RachaelGold
Summary: Kathryn and Chakotay haven't spoken in five months. Can a sleazy Starfleet Admiral and some bemused and faintly ridiculous aliens bring them back together?Setting: 5 months post Endgame (canon friendly)





	Most Peculiar Orders

Chakotay’s communication console beeped, and he glanced at it curiously. A call from B’Elanna or Mike would have been a welcome distraction right now. He spent far too much of his time wallowing these days, and the afternoon had been a particularly long one. When he noticed the Starfleet inscription on the identifier, his hopes surged momentarily. He hoped maybe Kathryn was calling him. 

He keyed in his acceptance of the call, and was immediately disappointed to see the greying features of a man a few years older than himself fill the screen. 

"Admiral Brougham?" 

"Ah, Commander Chakotay. Glad I’ve caught you. We have something of a favour to ask of you. A little assignment, if you will." 

"Sir?" 

"I take it you’re in good health?" 

"Yes." 

"Job at the academy going well?" 

"Absolutely. I’m enjoying my work." 

"Good. Good. And you’re currently unattached? That little affair with the Borg babe all over?" 

Chakotay huffed. He didn’t see that this was any of the older man’s business. 

"I don’t think I need to tell you that." 

"No, indeed you don’t," said Brougham with a smirk. "I have my sources. It seems you’re quite a hit with the ladies. One particular lady in fact, which is why we need your help." 

"Oh?" replied Chakotay, with a growing interest. 

"Our mutual friend and occasional thorn in the flesh, Admiral Janeway. She’s throwing a bit of a strop." So would I, if I had to work with you, thought Chakotay. "It seems you’ve developed quite a knack for dealing with her, if my sources are to be believed. Pulled her out of a black period before." 

"She pulled herself out, Admiral." 

"I think you underestimate your ability. Look, this isn’t something we should discuss over a comm link. Can you come to my office in the next half hour?" 

"Admiral, I have papers to mark." 

"It wasn’t a request, it was an order. The papers will keep. This is very important." 

"Very well. I’ll be with you in a moment." 

* * *

  


It was only twenty minutes later that Chakotay found himself outside Brougham’s office. He was ushered straight in. 

He was greeted with a friendly handshake, but Chakotay felt a sliver of unease. Without any good reason as yet, he found himself beginning to dislike the man. They both sat, and to his surprise he soon had a whisky thrust into his hand. 

"Let me get straight to the point," began Brougham. 

"Please do." 

"You and Janeway have always had a bit of a …thing for each other. Almost lovers, in fact?" 

"I don’t have to answer that!" said Chakotay, beginning to bristle. 

"No, you don’t. I already know. But it would much more helpful if you were straight with me, Commander!" he replied, in a more formal tone. The man regarded him with an authoritative eye, and Chakotay knew that it would be fruitless to antagonise him. "You were attracted to each other." 

"I can’t answer for Janeway, sir." 

"Then answer for yourself. You were attracted to Janeway?" 

"Yes. We never acted on it." The man’s eyes told Chakotay that he already knew that. 

"Regrets?" 

"Many. But I understood her restraint." 

"So you settled for friendship whilst constrained by the command structure?" 

"Yes." 

"In fact, it would be fair to say that you were the closest friend she had in recent years?" 

"Yes, probably. She was close to Lt. Commander Tuvok too." 

"Ah, yes. But their relationship was a little less complicated." Chakotay shrugged. "Certainly no sexual undertow." 

"No." 

"Tell me, how do you feel about your former Captain now?" 

"She is still a very dear friend." 

"And in your opinion, is she well?" 

Chakotay had the grace to look embarrassed. "I don’t know, sir. I haven’t seen her." 

"No, you haven't been much of a friend lately, have you Commander? You haven’t seen her in nearly five months in fact. Since the end of the debriefings?" 

"No," replied Chakotay, squirming uncomfortably. "She was rather busy…" 

"I know that," snapped Brougham. "She has been back on earth for at least the last two months. Have you even spoken to her?" 

"Hardly," said Chakotay, rather ashamed. Truth was he had avoided talking to her. He knew she had been hurt by his brief and ridiculous entanglement with Seven, and he didn’t think he had any right to waltz back into her life. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He’d hoped she’d call him, but she hadn’t. 

There was a long pause. "She was away in the Beta Quadrant for ten weeks negotiating with the Zimpovians on their admission to the Federation." Chakotay nodded. He knew that. "A task she performed with the utmost skill and patience, I might add. She went as part of a team, and to say that she was pivotal in achieving the breakthrough would be an understatement. Anzark, their leader, has taken something of a shine to her…oh no, not in that sense!" he commented, noting Chakotay’s discomfort at this news. "They are a sexless, and naturally reticent race. They are mildly empathic, and tend to read people rather deeply. They find it hard to trust outsiders, particularly anyone they feel is rather 'closed' to them. Given their history, it’s not very surprising. 

But our dear Janeway has a certain aura about her, as I’m sure you know. She quickly engenders trust and loyalty. I imagine she all but charmed her way through the Delta Quadrant. Well, suffice it to say that she rescued the negotiations from near collapse, and the Zimpovians are on the brink of signing. They're on their way as we speak and will be here in a few more days to finalise the terms of Federation alliance. I have no need to tell you that Zimpovian space is strategically very important, with all manner of wolves trying to get their hands on it. 

The hard work has been done, though there are a few sticking points. We are confident they will be resolved." 

"What has this to do with me?" 

"Anzark is insisting he deals with Janeway alone. Nobody else." 

"Is that a problem?" 

"Ordinarily, no. But the lady in question is refusing to finish the job. Thinks she’s owed rather a lot of leave…which unfortunately she is." 

Chakotay took this news with some surprise. "It is most unlike her, sir. I cannot believe she would risk her hard work going to waste. She is not the sort of person to leave things unfinished." 

"No. It’s unlike her," Brougham agreed, sweeping his assessing eyes over him. "Commander Chakotay, I’ll admit I will never quite understand women, and I find some of them extremely difficult to work with. If I had my way, they’d still be kept out of the command structure." Chakotay swallowed. The Admiral was showing his true colours now. His views were centuries out of date. How had the man made it to Admiral? "Since she got back from the Beta Quadrant, she’s been most uncooperative. Damned hormonal. Or damned depressed. Not sure which. Probably both." 

Chakotay said nothing. Brougham wouldn’t have a clue about how to handle a woman, let alone someone as vibrant and complicated as his beloved Kathryn. 

"We sent the psych. in, naturally," continued Brougham. "He seems to have diagnosed mild depression. He tells me it’s entirely unsurprising in her situation, and we ought to cut her some slack. She has had seven years of isolated command, trauma, stress, and such a precipitous return home! It was all bound to require some significant psychological adjustment. She’s suddenly lost her ship and, to all intents and purposes, her home and her family. On top of that she’s had all the media interest and the debriefings to contend with." 

Chakotay was beginning to realise where this was all leading. They wanted him to go and sort her out. "We’ve all felt like fish out of water since we got home." 

"Psych. says she’s missing you most of all. Very unhappy about your estrangement." 

"I regret to say that is most likely to be true," Chakotay said sadly, as he thought of his long held desire that they would come together when they got home. A desire he'd always thought she shared. 

Brougham nodded and leaned in closer to Chakotay. "And rumour has it she hasn’t got laid in seven and a half years!" he said with twinkling eyes. He seemed to think this last nugget of information rather delicious. 

"She told him that?" Chakotay asked, somewhat shocked. He wasn’t sure if he believed it. He could think of a few occasions when she'd had the opportunity, and he'd always supposed that she'd taken it. 

"Not in so many words, but he’s pretty sure it is the case. We had a couple of hopefuls make a pass, but she didn’t bite." Chakotay was horrified. He hardly knew what to say. How dare they try to manipulate Kathryn in this way! How dare the man talk about her sex life so flippantly! It showed such a lack of respect. "So she needs something…or someone…to snap her out of this. In my opinion, what that woman needs is a damned good fuck. I’ve no need to tell you how important…" 

"Hang on a minute," said Chakotay, outraged. "Is Starfleet ordering me to go and make love to this amazing woman, whose boots you’re not even worthy to lick…" 

"No! No! Starfleet would never order you to do something like that," Brougham said quickly, realising he may have overstepped the mark. Then he grinned conspiratorially. "Just to go and do whatever it takes to get her back at the negotiating table by Thursday. Commander Chakotay, you’ve got five days. You are excused classes for the next week. It’s all organised. This is a mission of the utmost importance." 

Chakotay eyed the man with considerable distaste. He took a few steady breaths to calm himself. A huge row wouldn’t help. 

"I don’t even know, if she’ll see me." 

"It seems you have considerable charm with the ladies. I suggest you go and use it." 

"Admiral," he said with resignation, "I will go and do what I can. But rest assured, I will treat Kathryn Janeway with the respect she deserves." 

Brougham looked at him squarely, barely blinking. "I wouldn’t have you behave in any other way." 

* * *

  


Chakotay didn’t go immediately to see Kathryn. He spent the rest of the afternoon stewing over Brougham’s words, but at 10.00 the next morning he found himself outside Kathryn’s apartment more than a little apprehensive over the coming reunion. 

On the face of it, he was only being asked to go and see what he could do to dig Kathryn out of her self-imposed isolation, and it was entirely reasonable that Starfleet should ask the man who knew her best to do so. Brougham’s subtext orders… and he was pretty sure they were only Brougham’s… gave him a peculiar sense of unease. He wouldn’t dream of manipulating Kathryn in this way, yet equally he was forced to admit that making love to Kathryn Janeway was the one thing in the entire universe he most desired. In many ways, he regretted that he had not already done so. For nearly five months, he had been languishing in a misery of his own making. His brief liaison with Seven had created a distance between them that he had begun to believe would never be bridged. He had hurt Kathryn. He hadn’t seen it at the time, but he knew it now. Her silence was testament to it. 

He honestly didn’t know if she’d speak to him. After all this time, why should she? He felt rather ashamed that he hadn’t tried to do something about it sooner. Why had it taken this ridiculous prompt from Starfleet to bring him to this point? 

Gingerly, he rang her chime, unsure of the reception he’d get. She opened the door, and, much to his surprise, her face lit up. 

"Chakotay! What brings you here?" she said, ushering him in. 

"Do I need an excuse to visit my old friend?" 

"No, of course not. But why so long?" she said as they settled in chairs. 

"I’m sorry, Kathryn. I should have called sooner. Truth is…I felt a little embarrassed. And the longer I left it, the harder it seemed…" 

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" 

"Yes." 

"Embarrassed? Why, Chakotay?" 

"Well, I know you never quite approved of my liaison with Seven…" 

"Did I say that?" 

"No, not really. I just sensed it." Kathryn raised her eyebrows at this. "Anyway, it’s over now." 

"I’m sorry." 

"You are?" he asked, disappointed. 

"Yes. I thought you had the potential to be very happy." 

Chakotay snorted. "We had the potential to be very miserable. Seven and I had practically nothing in common." 

"Oh!" responded Kathryn, looking a little shaken. 

"You seem surprised." 

"Well, yes." 

"What makes you say we had the potential to be happy?" 

"Well…she’s young and she’s beautiful and…." 

"And?" 

"No, I shouldn’t say any more." 

"No, please do," pleaded Chakotay, anxious to get her to talk. 

"Well…in the alternate timeline, you and Seven married." 

"Great spirits, we must have been miserable!" 

"I didn’t get that impression." 

"Well, all I can say is thank G-d your other self came back and rescued us! Lucky escape, I should think." 

Kathryn finally allowed herself to smile at this. Chakotay studied the woman he’d loved for seven years. Her face looked relaxed, her hair neatly pinned and she was wearing uniform…unusual on a Sunday. She didn’t look nearly as depressed as he’d anticipated. Maybe Brougham had been exaggerating. 

"So no regrets then?" Kathryn asked enthusiastically. 

"Oh many! But not about ending things with Seven." Kathryn was curious about this comment, but refrained from pursuing it. Instead she offered him tea, and went to the kitchen to organise it. 

They chatted easily for a long while, reminiscing and catching up on news of their former travelling companions. Smiling fondly at their remembered antics. Filling in the details of their own lives. Kathryn told him all about her trip to the Beta Quadrant and her dealings with the Zimpovians. She talked happily of what had happened, and Chakotay didn’t think she was showing any signs of depression. He didn’t probe her about Starfleet’s expectation that she complete the negotiations. He figured she would mention it in her own good time, and he didn’t want to make it the reason for his visit. 

She did volunteer that she’d had to see Brougham that morning, hence the fact that she was wearing her uniform. He detected a strong dislike on her part for the man. He told her how well his work was going at the academy, and she appeared to be thoroughly interested. No, she didn’t seem depressed at all. Could he even guess at the fact that her weeks of gloomy introspection had been in large part due to his absence from her life, just as his recent melancholy had been due to hers? No, her mood had been transformed the instant he’d crossed her threshold. 

They fell into silence, each studying the other appreciatively. That long felt attraction was still there. Simmering, enduring and viable. 

"I’ve missed you," he said simply. 

"I’ve missed you too," she smiled. 

He reached across and squeezed her hand. "So can I take you out to lunch?" 

Her face lit up again. "I’d like that!" 

"Only you can go and change out of that uniform. I want to take my friend out, not my former Captain!" 

"Yes, sir!" she said, with mock severity, and went directly to change. She was an unfathomably long time, as she disputed what to wear, throwing several items over the bed in her indecision. Eventually she settled on a long skirt and a short sleeved blouse, the top buttons left suggestively undone. It was classy and feminine, without being too revealing. 

She sensed that this was subtly different from their previous lunch engagements. This was in essence their first real date, and somehow she knew it. No, they both knew it. 

As if to confirm that subtle change, when they stepped out of her apartment and headed for the transporter station, he reached again for her hand. Her delicate fingers slipped unhesitatingly amongst his stubbier welcoming ones. They fitted perfectly. And they stayed there. 

Lunch was sublime, the conversation easy and the silences relaxed. Afterwards they walked and walked, reluctant to let the afternoon end. They strolled the walkways, the parks and the art galleries until the dusk fell and the chill began to sting them. 

Nearing her apartment, she asked him back in. 

"Kathryn, I think you should know I want to change the nature of our relationship," he confessed. 

"I know," she said quietly. 

"Is that okay with you?" 

"I need to know something first." 

"Well?" 

"Are you sure, Chakotay? Are you absolutely sure?" 

He laughed in disbelief. "How can you ask that? I’ve wanted to be with you from the moment we first met." 

"But I’m not as blonde or as young or as beautiful as your usual women…" 

His heart skipped a beat. How could she think that? How could she possibly imagine that she fell short of his standard? Well, given the assortment of women he’d released some tension with, perhaps he understood her reservations. He reached out his hand, and tenderly swept a lock of hair aside and cupping her head in his palm. 

"Spirits, Kathryn. None of them meant anything. I was only waiting for you. You always had my heart." He leaned forward and kissed her on the temple. "And just for the record, I do think you’re beautiful. I always have. What’s more, you possess a beauty that’s more than superficial. It goes beyond the external. You have an inner beauty, my love. I hope you know that. And that is how I see you. Never doubt yourself. You truly have nothing to be anxious about." 

Kathryn stared at him, a little off balance by this declaration. Did he mean it? His eyes told her he did. 

He lowered his fingers to lift her chin, and now brought her lips to his. Their first kiss was soft and experimental. An initial delicious taste and tease. As they broke, their eyes locked, shining in intensity. But their second kiss was hungry, invasive and demanding. 

He drew her into his arms, and his lips came close to her ear. "And I can’t wait to get you naked. I’d bet anything you look stunning without your clothes!" 

She pulled away, and for a moment he thought he’d pushed her too quickly. Her hand drifted down his arm and caught his fingers. 

She stepped towards her door, giving him a gentle tug. "Then it’s time you found out." 

* * *

  


Chakotay stirred the following morning, immediately aware that he wasn’t in his own bed and that there was the unfamiliar warmth of a slender body cradled in his arms. 

His spirits soared as he recalled the evening of incomparable and exquisite love-making. He could never have imagined just over thirty hours ago, when Brougham spoke to him, that he would by now have actually carried out the man’s subtext orders, and that it would have felt so amazing when he did so. He hadn’t even spoken to Kathryn in five months, and here he was glowing and satisfied in her bed! 

He sighed, attempting to twist his head and sweep his eyes over the sleeping naked form beside him. He was a man filled with thirst, desperate to assuage his need to drink in the beauty of her pale sensual body…a privilege that had been denied him for seven and half long years of adoration. It was difficult to move: her head was on his shoulder, nose tucked under his stubbly chin, hair flowing in silky ribbons on his neck and chest. 

Spirits, he felt wonderful! His arm was numb, his shoulder ached, but he felt wonderful! He brushed his lips on her forehead and nuzzled the hair over her ear, inhaling her familiar fragrance. She stirred just a little, and to his delight one rosebud of a nipple popped up from the shadows between them. He lay still for ages, just admiring. But in the end, he could no longer resist. The pull was too strong. His free hand drifted onto her breast, to touch and savour. 

She shifted slightly, and he became aware of two blue eyes gazing at him. 

"Morning, beautiful." 

She smiled. "Good morning, lover." She lifted her head sleepily. "What time is it?" 

"09.30." 

"As late as that?" she asked in surprise. "Haven’t you got to be at work today?" 

"No," he lied. "Students are on field exercises." 

"Oh?" A small furrow creased her brow. "I thought it was exam period just about now." Technically, there was still a week of teaching before exams. He hoped she didn’t enquire too fully. There was no way he wanted her to know Brougham had arranged to have his classes covered. 

"Well…yes. That too. I do have some papers to mark. But they can wait. What about you?" 

"No. I’m taking some leave." 

"Well then…seems like we’ve got all day…" 

"Whatever are we going to do with ourselves?" she asked innocently. 

"Well…I can think of a multitude of things," he said, flipping her onto her back and looming over her. He kissed her. "Some of them rather interesting." 

"Oh? Such as?" 

"This." He kissed her again. Thoroughly. "And maybe a little exploring…" 

"Exploring?" 

"Yes…" he said, kissing his way down to the breast he had earlier been admiring. "There are some rather fascinating natural features around here somewhere." 

"Are there?" she asked, beginning to squirm in delight. For some minutes, he lavished attention on this particular natural feature, ignoring for the moment the throb from a certain part of his own anatomy that craved attention. 

Then his lips placed a damp silky trail of descent on her abdomen. His hands gently pushed her thighs apart. 

"I’m on a treasure hunt," came his commentary. 

"Erff.." came her garbled response. 

"There’s a particularly precious pearl around here somewhere, with which I wish to get better acquainted." 

"Oh, my G-d!" she shrieked, as his tongue hit the target. 

* * *

  


Later in the day, the subject of the Zimpovians came up naturally, just as he hoped it would. 

"They’re very tall…nearly three metres high. They resemble tree trunks. Greyish with a number of fairly dextrous appendages. They float about on one giant foot, rather like snails, but they’re very graceful. They wear no clothes as they have no sex organs, reproducing asexually when the population drops below a certain level. They do not sit or lie down. They sleep standing up." 

"Are they intelligent?" 

"Well, of course. They wouldn’t have developed warp drive otherwise. Moderately empathic too. But they can talk rather slowly, and that does sometimes give off a false impression. They’re deep thinkers, though. If you listen carefully, they come across as philosophers. They have a vast cultural heritage in literature and the arts." 

"Sounds as if you like them." 

"Yes. I do. They’re very cautious, and it’s taken a lot of work to convince them to trust us." 

"So are they going to join?" 

"I hope that’s very likely now. They’re on their way to sign." 

"So your work is nearly done?" 

"I thought it was done. Brougham seems to think I’m needed to finish the job." 

"And are you?" 

She hesitated. "Really, I don’t see why. The hard work’s done. All it needs is someone intelligent to handle the last few queries and shuffle the documents. Any member of the team could do it." 

"Is it a long job?" 

"No. A week at most…if all goes smoothly." 

"Then I’m surprised you don’t want to see it through. You’re not the sort of person to leave things unfinished." 

She looked at him curiously. "You’re right. I’m not." 

"Then why stop here? You could be finished in a few days and then take a well earned rest. The end of term’s in sight for me, so we could take off somewhere for months." 

"Sounds like you want to get me back at work…" 

"No. Not at all. I just don’t want you to do something you might regret later." 

"Why would I regret it?" 

"Well, supposing something went wrong with the final negotiations, wouldn’t you kick yourself for letting all your hard work go to waste?" 

"I suppose. But the rest of the team’s not incompetent." 

"Maybe not. But, as you say, the Zimpovians are very cautious," he said carefully. "Wouldn’t they want to deal with the same team they’ve grown to trust?" 

"It is essentially the same team. Just I hoped not to be on it any more." 

"Why not? I thought you said you liked the Zimpovians?" 

"I do. It’s that slimy Robin Brougham I can’t stand. He makes my flesh crawl. The last thing I want is to be at his beck and call." 

"Well, that I can understand." 

"You’ve met him?" 

"Yes." 

"Think he hates me." 

"I think he hates all women. Can’t bear it when a woman eclipses him. Don’t take it personally." 

"Yeah. Thinks they’re only good for two things…housekeeping and sex." 

"Well, my dear, I hate to break it to you. You’re only good for one of those!" 

She kicked him playfully. "Which one did you mean?" 

* * *

  


And as they retired that night, Chakotay glanced out of the window. Down below across the walkway, he noted the furtive movements of a figure in the shadows. He recognised the type. Starfleet intelligence. So they were keeping an eye on them! Damn! Brougham was probably already gloating over the evidence that they were sleeping together. He cast his eyes quickly about the room. He wondered if they’d bugged, or worse still video-linked, Kathryn’s apartment. He sincerely hoped not. But he couldn’t search for bugs without spooking Kathryn, and that was the last thing he’d risk doing right now. 

"Come to bed, my love," came the husky call from the woman stretching sensuously on the bed. 

He smiled and joined her. "Did I tell you that I love you, Admiral Janeway?" 

"Yes, you did. And, amazingly enough, I love you too, my Maquis." 

* * *

  


The next day was just as blissful as the last. Kathryn’s obvious happiness warmed Chakotay’s heart. She seemed to be blossoming with his love and attention. 

Brougham however did not benefit from her good humour. He commed her in the morning, but she gave him short shrift. 

"What did he want?" asked Chakotay, when Kathryn returned from taking the call. 

"Exactly what you might guess. My presence at the negotiations on Thursday." 

"Still holding out on him?" 

"Yes." 

"Kathryn, I can’t believe you’d let your own prejudices affect your work. Don’t stoop to Brougham’s level!" 

"No. You’re right. I shouldn’t." 

"And if your absence jeopardises the treaty, you’ll regret it." 

"Yes, I would," she said with a grin. 

He knew that grin. He knew what it meant. "You’re going, aren’t you? You just haven’t told him yet!" 

She laughed, her eyes twinkling now. "No harm in letting him stew for a while. The man deserves to be hustled a bit!" 

Chakotay dimpled, dragging her into his arms. "Come here, you wicked woman!" he said. Any excuse to kiss her. 

* * *

  


On the Wednesday, they left their comm badges, slipped the security net, unbeknownst to Kathryn, and spent a wonderful day sailing together on Lake George. A rather frustrated Brougham hadn’t a clue where they were. 

When they got home, there was a series of progressively more frantic calls lined up from the man. In one, he almost threatened that her Starfleet career would be over if she didn’t show. Kathryn was adamant he didn’t have the clout to carry it through. 

At 00.30 hours, she commed him at home, waking him from his sleep. She told the grumbling man, who in his pyjamas had accepted an audio only call, she would attend the conclusion of negotiations. There was an audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line. They didn’t hear the curses that followed after the line was cut. 

* * *

  


The next three days followed something of a pattern. Kathryn rose very early, and left for Federation HQ. Chakotay left some time later, and resumed his teaching. He was finished much earlier than her, so he returned to his own lodgings, where she joined him late in the evening, exhausted, but thrilled to see him and eager to resume their love-making. Chakotay had swept both apartments, and found one listening device in Kathryn’s, which he removed, but none in his. After a while, he was pleased to notice that the shadowy escort had vanished. 

The first night, she had been a little down-hearted. The Zimpovians wanted to hold back some territory. It was not just sacred territory, which was always afforded respect by the Federation, rather it was a range of planets which among other things constituted their nursery. All young Zimpovians were raised together and not in family groups. Starfleet were most unhappy about this, because it was a strategically significant area in the heart of Zimpovian space. The Zimpovians, however, were ready to walk away rather than concede this point. 

The second night she had been more optimistic. She had spent the day going backwards and forwards between the Federation and Zimpovian camps, brokering a deal whereby the Zimpovians would only ally the territory they chose at the beginning of the treaty. After ten years, when a good deal more trust had been built up, the rest of the territory would automatically follow, unless the Zimpovians withdrew altogether. It was a highly unusual agreement, but the Federation accepted it was the best they could get. 

The third day, Saturday, was tedious but less stressful. Kathryn again spent her time shunting between the camps, but this time she was only ironing out minor details. She allowed herself to relax a little. 

Anzark, leader of the Zimpovians, noticed the smile on her face. 

"You are happy, Federation Janeway. I see you smile. Something is different," boomed his low resonant voice. Kathryn often thought that human voices must sound like high pitched squeaks to them. 

"I am glad that our talks are going well and that the alliance between our two peoples will be soon be recognised, honourable Anzark." 

"No, it is not just that. You have a glow about you…we sense such things. A lightness of spirit and a sparkle in your eyes. Doesn’t she, Roeshan?" 

"If you say so, minister," boomed the second Zimpovian. 

"Do I?" she asked, mildly embarrassed. 

"She is no doubt pleased to be back on earth," said Roeshan. "You waste too much time with your imaginations!" 

"No! Imaginations are riches of our existence! I am intrigued. Tell me, dear human, do you have a partner?" asked Anzark. 

"Partner?" she asked, flushing. 

"Yes, one you love. We do not understand this concept…love." 

"It is a private affection between two individuals." 

"And you have such an individual?" 

She paused before admitting it. "I do," she smiled. 

"Oh, fascinating!" said Anzark rippling with glee. They took on a bluish tinge when excited. "Tell me, do you take part in ritual? That is something we would like to see! For betterment of our understanding, of course." 

"Ritual?" she asked, puzzled. 

"Yes, copulation. A joining of two individuals for purposes of procreation." Kathryn did a commendable job of keeping her face straight. Her two aides, standing within earshot, wriggled uncomfortably, somewhat glad they were not required to answer the question. 

"Do you understand the concept of privacy, honourables? 

"We do. It is when an individual wishes to be alone, and not observed by others." 

"Good, then you will understand that we require privacy to copulate. You are most unlikely to be permitted by anyone to view it." 

"That is very disappointing." 

"There is no doubt good information in our data-bases about the process, which you will be able to study." 

"Of course, we have already studied physical processes, but study is always enhanced by first hand observations." 

"Well, I think you will have to do without the first hand observations on this one." 

"Is it true that two individuals sometimes join together even when they do not wish to procreate?" 

"Yes. They do it as an expression of their love…their attachment to each other." 

"We do not understand." 

"It strengthens their bond. Deepens their spiritual connection." 

"Ah! I think we see." 

"Do we?" asked Roeshan. "Don’t individuals have a marriage to strengthen their bond?" 

"Yes they do, sometimes. Two individuals who wish to publicly commit to a long term relationship will get married." 

"What is marriage?" asked Anzark. 

"It’s the union of two individuals. They join together in a ceremony sometimes called a wedding. The two individuals stand in front of their friends and make verbal promises to love each other and to remain faithful to each other for the rest of their lives." 

"Faithful to each other?" 

"Well, that means copulate only with each other. Nobody else. Like an exclusive pair." 

"And sometimes they will procreate. There will be small beings?" 

"Sometimes. That is what we call a family." 

"Intriguing. This copulation sounds very complicated. We think it must be very unsatisfactory." 

"On the contrary," Kathryn said with a secret smile to herself, "it is a very pleasurable process, involving mutual physical enjoyment. Let me assure you, it can be very satisfactory indeed." 

"Oooh!" replied the two Zimpovians, branch-like appendages quivering with excitement, "We must go and study data-bases again!" 

The conversation was replayed verbatim for Chakotay that night, who laughed heartily. 

"They sound incredibly uninformed. Have they not encountered humanoids before?" 

"Well, of course they have as a race. But this particular bunch seem relatively inexperienced in that respect. Everything is a revelation to them. They understand friendship and loyalty, but cannot make any sense of sex. I could have done with your expertise on mating rituals, Chakotay!" 

"It sounds to me as if you did admirably on your own! Spirits, their romance literature must be very dull!" 

"I don’t think they have it. They have no concept of romance." 

"Well, happily, I have!" he said, drawing her into his lap, and kissing her. "What's more, I want to improve my expertise on mating rituals..." 

She gazed into his beautiful darkening eyes, losing herself in the spell they cast, as his hands began to slide under her vest. "You're already an expert in my book!" she panted. "Ooooh...thank heavens....you’re not...(gasp)...a Zimpovian!" 

* * *

  


The next day was Sunday, and all parties had the day off. Kathryn and Chakotay spent the morning dreamily making love, then rose to enjoy a light lunch. They walked the beaches hand in hand through the hot afternoon, and landed at her mother’s for dinner. Occasionally, her thoughts wandered to the Zimpovians and how they were occupying their time on this most bemusing of planets. 

In fact, they spent the day thoroughly engrossed in study of the data-bases, thirsty for a deeper understanding of the very peculiar courtship and mating practices of humanoids. It was riveting stuff. 

Their residence had been specially adapted to their physical needs: a lighter gravity, carefully controlled climate and oxygen enriched atmosphere. It was situated not far from Federation HQ. When she arrived early on the Monday morning, her eyes nearly popped to find three Zimpovians (Anzark and Roeshan had been joined by Sorondin) swaying like trees in the wind to some music, an ancient popular love song. At some time during the night, their quest had led them to the exciting discovery of new art-forms: romantic songs and poetry. She could not help but laugh at the strange spectacle. 

They stopped and greeted her when she arrived, silencing the music. 

"Please explain, Federation Janeway," began Anzark, "why individual with broken heart is still alive?" 

* * *

  


Chakotay arrived back at his lodgings and keyed in his entry code. It had been a long day and he was rather tired. He immediately noticed that his communication console was beeping with an insistent alarm. Again, it had a Starfleet inscription. 

He shrugged his jacket and accessed the call. His heart sank as Admiral Brougham’s face filled the screen, but he tried not to let his disappointment show. 

"Commander Chakotay!" 

"Admiral?" 

"I wanted to call you to congratulate you and thank you for your help. Our little ruse worked! You really pulled it off. Janeway was awesome, as I’m sure you already know!" 

"Thank you, sir!" 

The signing ceremony is on Friday in the ceremonial hall at Starfleet HQ. Maybe you would like to attend?" 

"That will depend on whether Admiral Janeway has any inclination to ask me." 

"Ah, well. The invitation’s there anyhow. So, for the record, did you think she was depressed?" 

"Not at all. I didn’t think there was the slightest hint of depression. Of course, I can’t comment on how she was before I arrived." 

"Well, you may just have the magic touch, dear Commander!" He regarded Chakotay with a twinkle in his eye. "I rather think I had it pegged down all along. I told you she needed a damned good fuck, and you were just the right person to give it her. Tell me," he added, lowering his voice just a little, "Is she as awesome in bed as she is at everything else?" 

"I don’t think I should answer that question, sir!" 

"Good grief, Chakotay. You’re a tight bugger. Still, I can draw my own conclusions. You’ve been strutting around with a damned satisfied grin on your face for the last few days. Well, thank you for your help. You’ve done good work here." 

"It was a pleasure, sir," said Chakotay meaningfully. 

"I’m sure it was!" said Brougham with a lascivious grin, and he cut the link. 

The silence echoed round the room for a few seconds, before Chakotay sensed a movement behind him. He turned and saw Kathryn standing ashen faced in the doorway of his bedroom. She was wearing only an extremely sexy blue satin nightgown, one hand to her open mouth. 

"Kathryn!" he breathed, panicking, as he watched the colour drain from her face and the fire mount in her eyes. For a moment, she couldn’t speak, and he took a step towards her. "Please, don’t take any of that…" 

"Please tell me it’s not true. Tell me Brougham didn’t order you to screw me!" she said, as her heart thumped violently at the implication of what she had just heard. 

"The man’s a jerk, Kathryn." 

"Did he?" she reiterated. 

"Not exactly." 

"Not exactly?" her voice notched up a pitch. "What exactly did he order you to do?" 

Chakotay thought for a moment. She’d see through a lie in seconds. "To do whatever was necessary to get you back to the negotiating table," he confessed reluctantly. 

"Whatever was necessary?" 

"Yes." 

"Including sleeping with me?" 

"He didn’t order me to do that. I wanted it." 

"But he suggested it! He told you _‘I needed a damned good fuck’_?" 

"Yes." 

She threw her head back in exasperation. "You lied to me, didn't you? Your students were never on field exercises, were they?" 

"No." 

"I don’t believe this," she said, retreating into the bedroom. He followed her anxiously. Dimly he noticed the champagne on ice by the bed, fruit, flowers, fragrance…everything for a delightful evening of sensual seduction. She had clearly finished unexpectedly early and come home to surprise him. "You two have been sniggering over me like a pair of over-sexed adolescents plotting the downfall of some elusive virgin! He’s probably sitting there right now drooling over an itemised list of how many times we’ve done it and in what positions. How could you, Chakotay? How could you use me like this! It was all an elaborate charade, wasn't it?" 

"You think I’d let that sleaze Brougham influence me? I made love with you, Kathryn. It wasn’t just sex. I did it because I love you." 

"I love you?" she asked with a sneer, ripping off her nightgown and stuffing it angrily in her overnight bag. "Such easy words to say, so hard to mean." She grabbed her underwear from a chair, and started dressing. 

"I never meant anything more sincerely in my entire life. You know I’ve loved you from the instant we met," he said, sounding rather desperate. 

She looked at him disdainfully, as the layers of her uniform began to reappear on her body. "Five months, Chakotay!" she said in a dark, threatening voice. "Five months. I never heard from you once. It took an order from Starfleet to get you here." 

He shifted uncomfortably. This was too close to the truth. "I told you…I was ashamed. I knew I’d let you down. In all honesty, I needed the kick up the backside." He looked at her miserably. "I hoped you’d contact me once you knew I’d finished with Seven." 

"Contact you?" she screeched. "Why the hell would I want to contact you? You think I’d want to beg you to come to me? Chakotay, I needed you to want me so badly, nothing would have kept you away from my door!" Chakotay was silent. There was no good answer to this. "You know what I think? You’re incapable of sustaining a lasting relationship. All I ever was to you was another notch on your bedstead, wasn’t I? The latest in a long line. One of your more challenging ones, no doubt. Well congratulations, you got me!" she spat. 

"Spirits, Kathryn, it wasn’t like that at all. You were always the one I really wanted." 

"Save it, Chakotay. I’m out of here. I won’t be a pawn in your little game any longer," she said, grabbing her bag. 

He caught her by the upper arms. "Don’t go, Kathryn. Please believe me. I love you more than anything." 

"Don’t touch me!" she said, with enough ice in her voice to chill his blood. "I won’t answer for what I’ll do to you, if you don’t let go of me!" Nervously, he released her. She was quite capable of inflicting some horrendous damage on him, and, this riled, he knew better than to argue with her. 

"We will talk when you’re calmer," he offered. 

"We will not," she said, heading for his door. "I hope I never set eyes on you again. You disgust me." 

"Kathryn, don’t walk out on this. I couldn’t bear to lose you. These last few days have brought me the greatest happiness. You and I were made for each other. Just being with you has been...magical, and the sex has been the most satisfying and exhilarating of my entire life! I thought you felt it too." 

Her dark disdainful eyes turned back one last time and froze him to the spot. "So glad I didn’t disappoint!" she said sarcastically, and dipped out of the door. 

He called after her several times, but she never so much as faltered. 

He wandered blindly back inside. There was no point running after her now. He had to leave her to calm down. Then they’d talk. Once she’d had a chance to evaluate her own losses here she’d be back, wouldn’t she? She wouldn’t walk out on this wonderful relationship, would she? Just because of a stupid misunderstanding? He hadn’t needed that idiot Brougham to tell him how to feel or how to behave with the woman of his dreams? But maybe he had needed the kick up the backside to do something about it. Spirits, what a mess! If he hadn’t been so foolishly entangled with Seven when they got home, their estrangement would never have happened in the first place. 

He found himself in the bedroom and sank in defeat on the bed. His clouded gaze alighted on a hairbrush on the dresser. There was a curious tangle of black and red hairs amongst the bristles. He picked it up and stared at it, turning it over and over in his hand, as an icy dread began to gnaw at his heart. 

Eight days! Is this all there was? All there ever would be? Eight days of unparalleled happiness with the love of his life? Eight days fully immersed in companionship, laughter and exquisite love-making? He could barely contemplate the pain that this loss would mean to him. 

He put the brush back down reverently and dropped his head into his hands. He began to shake, then to sob. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the champagne bottle challenging him on its bed of ice. He grabbed it and flung it across the room. It hit the wall just above the doorway, shattering into a thousand pieces, spraying out its pale pink liquid like rays from a cooling sun. That’s when he howled. 

* * *

  


He knew he had to make the first move. In the morning, after a night without sleep, he left her a message pleading with her to talk to him. It remained unread. To his relief, he discovered she had gone to work. Still, he wasn’t allowed access to the Zimpovian residence or Federation HQ. She hadn’t been back to her apartment, nor had she stayed with her mother or sister. Enquiries with friends and colleagues also drew a blank. He had no idea where she was spending her nights. His only hope was the signing ceremony at Starfleet HQ on Friday. He had to find some way to reach her there. If he failed, there was no knowing when he might next get an opportunity. She could easily slip beyond his reach, disappear without a trace. The days ticked by in slow agony, and it was only the faint wistful hope of a reconciliation that kept him going. 

Kathryn drifted through the next few days in something of a daze. The anger had quickly subsided, to be replaced by a profound sense of betrayal and emptiness. She didn't know if she could ever trust Chakotay again, or forgive him for using her. 

However, she had no intention of letting Brougham and Chakotay’s antics deflect her from finishing the job now, so she turned up and acted the true professional, doing her best to hide her misery. She should have guessed that it wouldn’t slip past the Zimpovians, though. Their natural empathy soon detected the sadness beneath the surface. Federation Janeway had a broken heart. This they understood now. 

So Friday came. At 15.00 hours, Federation, Starfleet and Zimpovian officials all assembled in the ceremonial hall at Starfleet HQ. For once, Kathryn could sit back and simply watch the proceedings. Her job was almost done. There were to be speeches from both sides of the floor, and then the President of the Federation, who had travelled to earth especially for the occasion, and the head of the Federation (Sol Sector) would sign. Anzark and Roeshan would sign on behalf of the Zimpovians. After that there was to be a banquet, carefully planned to cater for the diverse and largely incompatible nutritional requirements of the attendees, and her work would be over. Then she could disappear off sensors for a while and lick her wounds in private. 

The ceremony went without a hitch, and, as the hall emptied, there was much hand-shaking to be done. She rose and walked over to Anzark to congratulate him. 

Anzark beamed happily, and extended one of his appendages to her hand. He thanked her profusely for her help in all the negotiations. She watched in amazement as he stretched himself, growing at least half a metre taller in the process. 

"It’s your gravity, dear Janeway. It is a little too strong for us!" 

She nodded her understanding. "Well, I hope you can put up with it a little longer. I would very much like to accompany you to the banquet." 

"Of course, of course. I would like nothing more." 

"Admiral Janeway?" called a distant voice. Her brow knotted just a little, as she turned towards the caller. To her surprise she saw a nervous young ensign approaching her with a massive bouquet of pink and white flowers. It nearly swamped him. "Admiral Janeway," he continued in a shaky voice, "these are for you!" 

"Thank you, she said, taking the flowers from him and burying her nose to inhale the sweet scent. Her initial reaction was that that they were a gift of thanks from the Federation for her hard work in securing the treaty. She nodded her dismissal at the ensign, who bowed and bid a hasty retreat. 

"These flowers are very beautiful!" said Anzark. "Who has sent them?" The other Zimpovians were begin to approach, their own interest aroused. 

"Well, I don’t know…" 

"There is a note!" 

"So there is!" she said, beginning to feel a bit exposed with this suddenly curious crowd of onlookers. With a slight frown, she withdrew the grey sheet. On the outside was written "Kathryn Janeway." Her pulse was sent racing, as she recognised Chakotay’s handwriting. 

"What does it say? Please enlighten us," said Roeshan. 

"Well, honourables, the contents may be private!" she said hurriedly, taking a step back and thumbing open the sheet. With teary eyes she began to read. 

  


****

_Kathryn Janeway,_

_Will you marry me?_

_You are the only woman I have ever wanted to ask. Nobody else ever came close._  
_I have loved you from the instant we met and you have been the light of my life ever since._  
_It has been a privilege to have you as my friend._  
_It has been an even greater privilege to make love to you. You cannot imagine how wonderful it felt when you let me touch you for the first time. You cannot imagine what joy I felt to wake up with you in the morning._  
_You cannot imagine how devastated I would be to lose you from my life. You, my love, have the power to make me the happiest man in the universe or destroy me completely simply with your answer._

_My heart is in your hands._

_Please say yes,_

_Your ever loving Chakotay._

_PS. Starfleet didn’t order me to propose to you! These are my very own words, my darling, straight from my hopeful heart._

  


Kathryn’s eyes glistened, and she looked up feeling a little shaky. She sensed the hushed silence around her, as the Zimpovians, and few intrigued Starfleet personnel awaited her next comment. She had no intention of reading the entire contents. They were far too personal. 

"It’s a marriage proposal," she said quietly. Her eyes began to scan the room, penetrating the swirling fog of people, anxiously searching for his lovely familiar features. Finally, she spotted a dimpled grin and two shining dark eyes staring at her intently from one of the doorways. She gave him a crooked smile, and he took this as his cue to approach her. 

"A marriage proposal?" said Roeshan, barely concealing his excitement. 

Chakotay paced across the marble floor, stopping just in front of Kathryn. "I’m sorry. I would have done this somewhere more private, but I wasn’t sure you’d grant me an audience." 

He studied her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction, but mostly she looked in total shock. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation struck him. There were eight Zimpovians…their little drama had daily been attracting an ever greater and more fascinated audience…standing like a lofty azure grove to her left and behind. All pairs of grey eyes were intently fixed on the two main players. They were positively shining with excitement, as they held their breath for her answer. To her right were a number of Starfleet officials, looking just as spellbound. Kathryn herself was standing there wide-eyed and lost for words, holding a bouquet the size of a bush, struggling to peer at him through the foliage. 

He laughed softly. "Well, come on, Kathryn, what do you say? Don’t keep us all in suspense!" 

"Are you going to give him an answer?" asked Anzark. 

One of her aides had the good sense to relieve Kathryn of the flowers. Then she smiled at Chakotay. "Yes," she said, throwing herself into his arms and sealing it with her lips. 

Their audience sighed and cheered. "Well," said Brougham, positively amused and surprisingly jealous, "That seems to be two treaties you’ve secured today, young lady." His comment went largely ignored. 

Chakotay cupped the side of her face tenderly, threading his fingers in her silky hair. "Have you any idea?" he whispered, during the few quiet seconds they shared alone, the rest of the world having momentarily faded away, "Any idea how utterly and completely in love with you I am?" Silently, he vowed to himself that he would never again let her doubt his feelings for her. "Don’t ever leave me again, Kathryn. I couldn’t survive it." 

Kathryn gave a slight shake of her head. Her eyes were filled with tears. "No, my love," she promised. 

"Will there be a marriage ceremony?" asked Anzark hopefully, his voice penetrating the lovers' own small universe. 

"Yes," said Kathryn, pulling away from her fiancé with a smile and brushing the moisture from her face. 

"And are witnesses permitted at such a ritual?" 

"Yes, they are." 

"Oh," interjected Roeshan, "may we make first hand observations?" 

Kathryn took a few moments to process the implication of this, casting her eyes along the row of innocently expectant grey eyes. "When are you leaving?" 

"In two earth days, dear Janeway." 

Kathryn turned to look at Chakotay, holding a silent conversation with him. With a slight shrug, he grinned his resignation back at her. The Zimpovians watched this exchange with ever increasing fascination. Surely these two humans were empathic. 

"Chakotay, go call mom. Tell her she has twenty-four hours to arrange a wedding. And we will be having some very honoured guests." 

"She’ll have a heart attack!" 

"No, she won't. She’ll be over the moon." 

Roeshan looked at them curiously. "Is wedding going to be on your moon?" 


End file.
